


Blood's Leash

by WotanAnubis



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Lesbian Vampires, Master/Slave, Nudity, Slavery, Two People Chatting, Vampires, lesbian harem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24997429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WotanAnubis/pseuds/WotanAnubis
Summary: In which a prisoner decides to cut a deal with a vampire.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	Blood's Leash

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like many of my stories are like introductions to larger stories I probably won't write. But this one feels especially introductory.

Jenn was going to die in three days, or possibly two now. She wasn't really sure of the time. The night had already lasted a pretty long while, but there was no sign of an approaching dawn. She lay on the pile of filthy, infested straw and looked up at what few stars she could see through the rusting bars of her tiny window.

She really ought to sleep. Couldn't. Possibly because she was going to die in three or maybe two days, but also because there were _things_ rustling in the straw. It was intolerable. But at least it would be over soon.

"Ah, still awake. Good."

The voice was soft and calm, yet still carried that aristocratic edge Jenn had despised all her life. She turned her head to look at the speaker.

A pale woman stood on the other side of the bars, erratically lit by the torches burning in the hallway. She had dark red hair and bright red eyes, and wore an extremely expensive red dress that had been expertly tailored to show off the curves of her pale body. Her full breasts were on especially prominent display and it seemed to Jenn that a single wrong breath might be enough to shift the red dress enough to reveal her nipples. But of course she didn't breathe. Not the way normal people did, anyway.

"Huh. Didn't think you'd come," said Jenn, determined to seem indifferent to the aristocratic splendour before her.

"You requested I visit," said the pale Baroness.

"Yeah, guess I did."

Jenn stood up from her pile of straw. She was filthy, her blonde hair matted together in clumps, and the tattered rags tied to her body could not really be called clothes. Even so, her degraded condition could not quite hide that she'd been fit and strong before her imprisonment, and there was still a fierceness in her blue eyes.

The pale Baroness looked her up and down. A faint smile crept across her thin lips.

"Do you understand the implications of your request?"

"Sorry?" said Jenn. "Look, all I know is, I work for you, I escape the noose."

"Ah," said the pale Baroness. "There is rather more to it than that."

"What's the catch?" said Jenn.

"The catch is, you won't work for me. Instead, I will own you," said pale Baroness.

Jenn took this quite calmly. She was a peasant's daughter. Her entire family had been bound to the land for generations. Land that was owned by Duke Hereford. Way she saw it, somebody owned her already.

"So?" said Jenn.

The pale Baroness looked up, apparently searching for the right words. It was a surprisingly human gesture.

"It would not be a... a contract. You will take my blood and in so doing you will surrender your will to me. Your very soul will be mine to command."

Jenn accepted this calmly as well, because she hadn't understood it.

"But I'll get to live, right?"

"In perpetual and unbreakable service to me," said the pale Baroness.

"Right, then."

The pale Baroness shook her head. "Very well. What's your crime?"

Jenn smiled grimly. "Oh, it's the most heinous crime imaginable. It must be, since I'm for the noose an' all."

"Enlighten me," said the pale Baroness.

"See, thing is, in return for letting us live on his land, the Duke demands his tribute, right? We do all the work growing crops and raising cattle and he gets to eat it all. So the only way for my family to ever see a bit of meat on the table is by hunting. But wouldn't you know it, Duke hasn't just claimed the farmland, he says the forest and everything in it is his as well."

"Poaching, then," said the pale Baroness.

"Theft of the Duke's own property," Jenn said cynically. "An obvious capital crime, see?"

"Very well," said the pale Baroness. "Approach the bars, if you would."

When Jenn did so, the pale Baroness raised a slender arm to her own face. Her lips curled back and Jenn saw a flash of sharp, white teeth before the pale Baroness bit into her wrist. Then she stuck her arm through the bars of Jenn's cell. Blood glistened on her torn wrist.

"Drink," said the pale Baroness, "and be mine."

Jenn stared at the pale Baroness' blood. She should've figured something like this would happen. Everybody knew what the pale Baroness was. And, really, if she'd thought about it, there should've been a good reason why condemned criminals had the right to offer their service to the pale Baroness in exchange for their lives. But then, Jenn had never really had the room to think about it. She'd spent all her life two meals away from starvation.

Jenn took the pale Baroness' hand. Her skin was cold, but her blood was warm, as she discovered when she leaned in to lap at the woman's wrist.

She knew the taste of blood. Her own blood, anyway. The pale Baroness' blood didn't taste any different. And yet, as those red drops flowed down her throat, a terrible thirst awoke within Jenn. A wild, irrational need for more than just a few drops. Jenn pressed her lips against the wound on the pale Baroness' wrist and sucked greedily. Warm iron blood coated her tongue and flowed down her throat. The more she drank, the more of it she needed. The desire for the pale Baroness and her blood grew hot and insistent.

**Stop.**

Jenn tore herself away from her Mistress' wrist and let go of her hand. Her Mistress pulled her arm back and licked her wounded wrist, closing the puncture marks as though they had never existed. Watching her Mistress lap at her bloody wrist, Jenn couldn't help but lick her own lips.

"There," said Jenn's Mistress. "It is done."

Jenn took a few deep breaths to try and stop herself from panting with desire for her Mistress' blood. "Right. Shall we go then?"

**Strip.**

Jenn undid the piece of rope that held her fetid rags together. She tore them off her body and threw them onto the pile of straw. Then she turned, filthy, hairy, and utterly naked, to her Mistress.

Jenn blinked. "What...?"

"Now do you see?" said her Mistress. "You have taken my blood and now you are bound to me. You are less than a slave. Even a slave can disobey. You cannot."

"So that's why they let you have criminals," said Jenn.

"Indeed. To be so robbed of one's own will, it's considered a fate worse than death."

Jenn shrugged. "If you say so."

**Kneel.**

Jenn went down on her knees. The floor was cold and hard and dirty, but that kind of thing had never really bothered her.

"Do you understand the humiliations I could heap upon you?" said her Mistress. "The horrific abuse I could inflict?"

"Yeah, you're a noble," said Jenn. "So are we going, or what?"

The Mistress stared at her as though she couldn't believe what she'd just heard. Then she smiled.

"Captain!"

The Captain of the Duke's guard appeared in front of Jenn's cell. He looked down at Jenn, naked, filthy, on her knees. Jenn didn't know how he felt seeing her like that and realised that she didn't care. He didn't matter. He was nothing.

"I have claimed this woman," said Jenn's Mistress. "Release her."

"You sure, Your Grace?" said the Captain. "She's a troublemaker, always has been."

"I own her and you will not keep my property from me," said the Mistress.

The Captain shrugged. "As Your Grace commands."

He grabbed his keys, unlocked the cell, and beat a hasty retreat. Almost as though he didn't want to be around the Mistress. Odd.

"Rise, and follow me," said her Mistress.

Jenn did as she was told. She stood up and followed her Mistress down the hallways of the Duke's jail and out in the midnight air. As she stepped out into the starlight, Jenn realised that she wasn't cold. The air was cold - cold enough to turn her breath into fog - but it didn't seem to touch her naked body. Perhaps the blood of her Mistress shielded her.

There was a coach waiting for the Mistress. It was black, and ornately decorated mostly with bats. Four large black horses, their eyes glowing red in the night, waited patiently.

The coachwoman, a brunette wearing a heavy duster with a red collar around her neck, rushed to open the coach door for the Mistress. Jenn had never seen the coachwoman before in her life, but she knew her name was Grace, and she knew she could trust her with absolutely everything. There were no secrets between them, and never would be.

"Get in," said the Mistress.

Jenn clambered into the coach and sat down on the seat opposite the one her Mistress had taken. The coach bench was more comfortable than any chair she'd sat on in her life. After a moment or two, the coach lurched and started moving away from the Duke's prison.

"Your driver... her name wouldn't happen to be Grace, would it?" said Jenn.

"Of course it is," her Mistress replied.

"Right. She's like me, then. She's tasted your blood," said Jenn.

The Mistress raised an eyebrow. "Not everybody figures that out so quickly. But yes, all my servants are bound to me and, through me, to each other."

Jenn tried to consider the implications. A huge bloody web of people each connected to the other, and at the centre of it all, her Mistress; the woman who now controlled the red strings of all their fates.

"Huh," said Jenn. "Could get interesting."

Her Mistress smiled, her sharp teeth shining in the moonlight. "Oh, I'll make sure of it."


End file.
